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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25062493">Wonderful</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/latiburona/pseuds/latiburona'>latiburona</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!, haikyuu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Aged-Up Character(s), An American in Paris au, F/M, Love Triangles, Love at First Sight, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other, Reader-Insert, Sort Of</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:27:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,443</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25062493</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/latiburona/pseuds/latiburona</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just as he looked down to apologize, he found himself forgetting how to speak. His lips slightly parted and unable to move. Your surprised face changed into a smile. Heat suddenly rose in his cheeks as you looked up at him. You turned back to your group and sat with them when your friend pulled out and offered you a chair. Hajime slowly shuffled over to his own party, finding it difficult to keep his eyes on his destination rather than you."</p><p>This is a reader insert An American in Paris au except there is minimal singing and dancing and no one is actually American nor is anyone really French.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Let me start off by saying that I am aware that my desire for this au is very niche, but An American in Paris is one of my favorite movies and the idea for this just popped into my head one day.</p><p>I will warn you, [Y/N] doesn't really show up until Chapter 3, but stay with me. Also even though I am writing fem!reader, I did my best to keep descriptions of [Y/N] to a minimum to maximize insertiveness.</p><p>lol</p><p>I am thrilled that you're here and I'm excited that you're taking this journey with me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Paris. The mecca for artists with big dreams. Hopefuls of all levels of talent would flock to this star on the map just to get a taste of the bountiful inspiration the city offered. Traffic almost at a standstill as cars did their best to rush through roundabouts. The streets lined with specialty shops containing elegant dresses and glittering jewelry. Cafes and bakeries that filled the air with the sweet smell of chocolate and butter. Young lovers walking hand in hand along the Seine. The hustle and bustle of the city was difficult for some to get accustomed to, but its beauty is well worth the frustration. It is a paradise.</p><p>The day was just beginning for a small street down on the Left Bank. An old woman made her way down to the bakery for her weekly loaf of bread as children laughed and played. The florist was accepting his daily delivery of fresh cut daisies and roses. A quaint café was buzzing with its usual clientele, excitedly chatting over their morning coffee. And just above dwelled their resident artist. Hajime Iwaizumi. After he had graduated from high school he decided, much to his parent’s chagrin, to journey to the city of lights to fulfill his lifelong dream of becoming a painter. A lot of folks back home had said he had no talent. And perhaps he did not. But the criticisms, to him, sounded much better in French.</p><p>The bright summer sun shone through the open window of his small studio. There was hardly room for a bed, let alone his canvases and paints. A stray ray of light hit his face, causing him to lazily open his eyes. Sleep still heavy on his lids, they fell closed again. He was not ready to wake up just yet. Hoping to escape from some of the brightness, he rolled over to his opposite side. The coolness of the pillow against his cheek combining delightfully with the warmth of the sun on his body. He sighed, sleep beginning to take over once again. Until there was a knock at the door. He frowned and cracked an eye open. Three more knocks. He rolled his eyes and sat up, stretching the stiffness out of his arms before turning behind him. He held himself up on his knees and left hand as he reached over the head of his bed for the doorknob which was no more than half a foot away. He opened the door as much as the space allowed and a hand popped through the crack holding a brown bag. Hajime took the bag and the hand silently darted back into the hall, closing his door behind it.</p><p>The floorboards squeaked under the weight of Hajime’s feet as he rose from the bed. He lifted his arms up, allowing his whole body to stretch and free the sleep trapped within his muscles. As he let out a loud yawn, he made his way over towards the corner of the studio where a rope hung beside one of the portraits he was working on of an older gentleman who would sit and read the paper on the balcony of the next building over. After placing the bag in his mouth, Hajime tugged on the rope. Placing one hand over the other, the cot he used lifted up off the floor, vanishing into the ceiling. Once out of the way, he slipped the contents of the paper bag onto the plate that sat on his bedside table. His usual morning bagel.</p><p>With his free hand he reached up for his washcloth and towel, which rested on the rod that connected the legs of his cot. As soon as he retrieved them, he made sure to push the legs back into the cot -- many little red welts in the past had taught him that this was an important step. He rolled a stool out of his path with his foot as he walked across to a wall, which he kicked, causing a small table to pop out. After tossing his plated breakfast onto the table, he turned to push a plush desk chair out of the way so he could open his closet. Revealing a white smock, two dark sweaters, a dresser, dining chair and another small, but slightly larger, table. He pulled the latter two out and placed them in the middle of his studio.</p><p>The little square table was decorated with a tin containing delicate purple blossoms from the florist down the street. He pulled out his French press and mug from the top drawer of his dresser and placed them next to the flowers. While pulling his dark green sweater from out of the closet, he reached up with his left knee to close the dresser drawer. He tossed the garment and his towels on the plush chair and then turned to face the doors leading out to his balcony. Using both hands, Hajime pulled open the doors, letting the morning light directly hit his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the cool morning air, allowing it to rest in his lungs a few beats before releasing. He then reached down and grabbed his fruit bowl and water pitcher to complete his breakfast table. Once the final items had been placed, he stood at his full height and placing his hands on his hips surveyed the room. His eyes turned into thin slits and a frown began to slowly form on his face as he focused on the portrait of the old man.</p><p>He made his way over to his work. Suddenly unhappy with the shading of the man’s nose, he smudged the charcoal with his thumb near the bridge. Then the corners. Hajime ran his hands through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh. Realizing it was not meeting his standards, his hand found a nearby rag and took to wiping away the whole piece. Small shouts of his name shook him from his actions. He made his way over to the open window facing the street. Three tiny hands wave up at him from below. Some of the neighborhood children had become fond of him after they had received a few gifts of sweet candy. Hajime playfully stuck out his tongue at them before waving back. The children laughed and continued running down the street. A familiar sound caught his attention. The soft tinkling of piano keys filled the air. He closed his eyes and focused on the melody that floated over from nearby.</p><p>Just a few windows over lived Hajime’s friend, Tobio Kageyama, an up and coming concert pianist who unfortunately had not been able to find much work recently. He moved to Paris after being awarded the Hackenwall Prize. It was the eighth scholarship he had been awarded for his musical talent. Quite an accomplishment for someone so young. Even with this and the amount of raw talent he had possessed, he felt like he did not have much to show for it. Upon discovering his lackluster communication skills, most companies were less than thrilled to continue their work with him. His worst fear was being forced to quit and take up an average desk job. So, he was constantly working to improve his interpersonal skills along with honing his musical genius.</p><p>While he was fairly homesick, Tobio had a soft spot for Paris. It was a place he could feel comfortable, especially knowing that it was near impossible to run into old acquaintances. Though that had never necessarily been an issue for him in his hometown either. Surprisingly to him, it had been quite easy to make friends in Paris. Perhaps it was the bond over a shared mother tongue between Hajime and himself that had made them close, or a shared project, like the one that had brought Tooru Oikawa into his life.<br/>
Tooru was a French music hall star just about the same age as Hajime. Both young, yet old enough to know what to do with their young feelings. Though Tooru had considerably more name recognition. With his smooth vocals and devilish charm, his popularity had grown like wildfire. According to many he was easy on the eyes to boot. The singer had grown fond of Tobio during their work together. Tobio did not share the same fondness however, but he could not deny the amount of skill the singer possessed. Over time a strange, almost competitive, friendship formed between the two. Tooru made it a priority to visit between shows to catch up and attempt to pressure Tobio into working on another collaboration.</p><p>Which is exactly what the young cabaret singer found himself doing on this lovely summer morning. Eyes followed him as he briskly walked down the street while admiring the architecture of the old quarter. Good mornings and other greetings from pedestrians and fans alike met his ears which he made sure to return with a dashing smile. He stopped only once to adjust his appearance in the reflection of a store front window. His tie had come a little loose on his journey over and his hat was not quite where he wanted it. Once everything was settled, he shot himself a wink and continued on his way.</p><p>Upon arriving at the café, Tooru was immediately met with a warm hug from its owner, pulling him in under the awning. “Tooru Oikawa?!” the owner exclaimed. Tooru laughed and returned the excited hug.</p><p>“Why Ittetsu, how have you been?” Tooru asked, extending his hand out to shake the spectacled barista’s.</p><p>“Very good, thank you!” Ittetsu answered while vigorously shaking the young singer’s hand. “But why haven’t you come to see us? I’ve only been able to read about you in the paper! It’s been a while.”</p><p>“Then perhaps you should come see me at my next show!” Tooru countered.</p><p>The melody from the flat above slowly sank down to the street. Tooru’s ears perked up at the familiar tune and he quickly ran back out into the street trying to guess from which window the sound was coming from. “That’s Tobio! Isn’t it?” he asked Ittetsu with a twinkle in his eye before singing along.</p><p>
  <em>“And then taking that vow. Oh, that’s nice work if you can get it.”</em>
</p><p>Tobio’s concentration broke suddenly hearing someone accompanying him, but his playing did not falter. He continued on, a look of confusion adorning his face before melting into a scowl upon realization. Tobio rose from his seat, fingers still gliding across the keys, trying to get a look at the performer below.</p><p>
  <em>“And if you get it, Dites-moi, won’t you tell me how?”</em>
</p><p>Just as he had suspected, there was Tooru Oikawa, arms outstretched, casually putting on a show in the middle of the street. Some things really do not change. “You used to sing it a tone higher!” Tobio called down after finishing up his song.</p><p>“I’m a big boy now! My voice is changing!” Tooru playfully answered back. Tobio rolled his eyes at the cheeky response. “Shall I come up?”</p><p>“No!” Tobi answered. “I’ll be down.”</p><p>The pianist made his way through the hallway and down the stairs. The scowl on his face only slightly softening. He would never admit it to himself, but he secretly looked up to the young singer. Though he did not often seem like it, Tooru was a disciplined artist. It was not simply his good looks and charm that skyrocketed him to fame like some would lead you to believe, it was his passion and dedication alone, he made an excellent mentor. Annoying and a bit egotistic, but talented nonetheless. Tobio truly enjoyed Tohru’s quick visits. Besides, they always had the potential to lead to new projects.</p><p>Tooru’s grin widened once he spotted Tobio entering the café. “Ah Tobio! You made it!” he exclaimed, raising his arms to pull Tobio into a hug.</p><p>Tobio’s eyes narrowed at the oncoming brunette, “Don’t do that, I just ate breakfast.” Tooru dropped his arms but his grin remained. Tobio managed a small smile and extended a hand to the singer who gleefully took it. “You look good.” He examined his excessively cheerful friend as they made their way over to a table so they could sit and chat. Tooru had always been a sharp dresser but there was something different today about his crisp navy suit and freshly polished shoes. And his usual cocky grin and mischievous eyes had some softness to them. “Weirdly… great actually. Did you take a vacation or something?”</p><p>“Oh, something much better.” Tooro’s eyes sparkled when he answered. He removed his hat and placed it on the table before sitting down.</p><p>“I hear your show’s a big hit.” Tobio said as he moved to sit down as well.</p><p>“It is. Naturally.”</p><p>“Yeah, naturally.” Tobio repeated with annoyance in his voice. There was that usual cockiness.</p><p>“When did you get back from touring?"</p><p>“I’ve been back since March. I phoned you but no one answered. I would have phoned you again, but I was afraid you might actually answer.”</p><p>“Oh in March?” Tooru mused, ignoring his reluctant friend’s slight dig. “I wasn’t in Paris then. [Y/N] and I were visiting friends in Juan les Pins.”</p><p>Ittetsu scurried over to the table and set down a plate of fresh baked brioche. Tooru thanked him and Tobio requested some coffee for the two of them.</p><p>“What are you working on?” Tooru asked, biting into the soft bread.</p><p>“Same old concert.”</p><p>The singer laughed. “When are you going to give it?”</p><p>“When I can’t figure out any more reasons not to.” It was Tobio’s passion project. A concert he had been working on for the last five years or so that he could not seem to perfect.</p><p>The excited café owner arrived at the table once again with a plate of butter for the bread. Tohru licked his lips and hastily spread some on what was remaining of his piece. Tobio once again asked for some coffee.</p><p>“I took [Y/N] to hear Weingarten play the other night. It was her first concert and her eyes were shining for two days.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you take her to the eye doctor then?” Tobio asked sarcastically. He was about to take a bite of his brioche but stopped short. It occurred to him that the name [y/n] was unfamiliar to him. “Wait, who’s [Y/N]? That’s the second time you’ve brought her up.”</p><p>“Tobio, I am very happy these days.” Tooru reached into his suit pocket to pull out his wallet. “I’ll show you her picture.” He retrieved the small photo from his trifold and handed it off.</p><p>“Are you married?” Tobio asked before taking a peek at the girl in the picture.</p><p>“Not yet.”</p><p>“Pretty,” Very pretty Tobio thought. Her [h/c] was done up in an elegant style and her [e/c] eyes complimented her [s/c] skin beautifully. “She looks familiar…”</p><p>“She’s Ikkei Ukai’s granddaughter.”</p><p>The young pianist gave an affirmative hum while he pieced together the few memories he had of the Ukai family. He smiled when Ittetsu finally came around to pour a cup of coffee for Tooru. He held out his own cup expectantly, but his smile quickly turned sour when Ittetsu flew from the table back towards the kitchen without pouring him a cup. Tooru laughed as Tobio angrily called Ittetsu back for his coffee. The owner hurried over, face pink with embarrassment and spouting out apologies. Tobio glanced at the owner out of the corner of his eye in annoyance while he poured.</p><p>“Her parents fell ill, the poor thing.” Tobio’s anger cooled and he brought his attention back to Tooru as the singer continued, “I took care of her through it all. She lived in my house for a while after they passed.”</p><p>Tobio choked on his coffee at the scandalous information. “Your house?” His eyebrows rose, “Shocking but generous.”</p><p>Tooru balanced his chin in his hand and let out a wistful sigh, “We were both young then,” he scrunched his face into a pout, “We didn’t fall in love until after she left.”</p><p>“She seems a little young for you.” Tobio accused, recalling how young the girl looked in the photograph.</p><p>“No, not really. She’s about your age even.”</p><p>“Well, what’s she like?”</p><p>The sparkle returned to Tooru’s eyes, “She has great vitality and joie de vivre. She loves to go out, have fun and dance. She could dance all night.”</p><p>“Sounds tiresome,” Tobio could think of a thousand other things he would rather do than go out for a night of dancing. It sounded like this [Y/N] was the perfect match for his energetic friend. “So she’s kind of wild like you, huh?”</p><p>“Wild? Like me? I have no idea what you are talking about,” Tooru placed his hands over his heart in feign shock, “No, she’s very demure. She works all day at the Maison Nicole, the perfume shop.”</p><p>Tobio let out another affirmative hum, hoping Tooru would catch the hint that he had no further interest in this conversation whatsoever. Tooru had a reputation for skirt chasing, even though most of his escapades ended up fruitless. Honestly, this instance was no different from the last dozen save for the fact that this girl was insane enough to actually agree to go steady with the famous singer.</p><p>“Oh she’s an enchanting girl, Tobio. She’s so wonderful I just can’t stand it.”</p><p>“She’s more reserved you said?” Tobio asked. Knowing there was no way he was going to get out of this conversation until Tooru was satisfied.</p><p>“Oh no, she’s quite exciting!”</p><p>“So… she’s pretty… experienced?”</p><p>“Well, not really. She’s so sweet and a little shy.”</p><p>“So, she’s old fashioned?”</p><p>“Of course not! She’s vivacious and modern!”</p><p>“So she never shuts up like you, huh?”</p><p>“Quite the opposite! She always has her nose in a book.”</p><p>“Dating you must make her pretty moody.”</p><p>“Never! She’s always cheerful and has the most beautiful smile!”</p><p>Tobio’s eyebrow twitched in irritation, “Tooru, you just described at least five different women.”</p><p>“Oh! What can I say, Tobio? I’m crazy about her! She’s perfect. She’s indescribable.”</p><p>As the two musicians chatted below, Hajime was finally making his way out of the studio. Both his hands where full of canvases as he walked down the stairs and out to meet his friend in the café. When he entered, he found Tobio working his fingers excitedly along the keys of the old piano by the patio, playing a jazzy tune, while a familiar, well dressed gentleman playfully heckled him. “That’s not music! It’s uncivilized. It’s noise.”</p><p>“G’ morning.” Hajime greeted.</p><p>“Morning,” Tobio greeted back, “Hajime, you remember Tooru Oikawa, right?”</p><p>Hajime walked over to the table where Tooru was still enjoying his breakfast. “Of course I do. I’ve only heard you sing about a thousand times. How are you doing?” Hajime extended his hand in greeting and Tooru cheerfully accepted.</p><p>“Well, thanks. And you?”</p><p>“I could be better. I’m broke.”</p><p>“Broke?” Tooru gave a light laugh at Hajime’s straight forward answer.</p><p>“Yeah, and the trouble is when I have no money I don’t eat. When I don’t eat I get tired and depressed. When that happens the only thing that’ll help is wine and women.”</p><p>“Oh well that should be very simple, Hajime. You’re in Paris!”</p><p>“Yes, but even in Paris that takes money. Which is what I don’t have in the first place… Speaking of,” Hajime made his way over to the piano, “Hey, Tobio, you got three hundred francs on you? I’m going to Montmartre and I need lunch money.”</p><p>“Sorry, Haji. I bought a postage stamp yesterday and it broke me.”</p><p>Tooru jumped out of his seat and strode over to the two while reaching for his wallet, “Here, allow me.”</p><p>Hajime quickly held his hands out in protest, “No, thanks. I don’t like taking money from strangers.” Tooru whined at the comment, hurt that Hajime would even think to call him a stranger even though they had met at least a few dozen times.</p><p>“I wish he was a stranger,” Tobio muttered under his breath. His playing stopped for a moment, smirking at the sneaky idea that popped into his head. “Hey, Tooru. Lend me three hundred,” he commanded.</p><p>Hajime frowned. Catching on to what his friend was doing. Tooru happily slipped the bill into Tobio’s outstretched hand. With a smirk on his face he pushed the money into Hajime’s chest and continued where he had left off but with more force. Hajime caught the money before it fell and reluctantly pocketed it. He stopped in front of Tooru on his way to sit at the once occupied table and said, “I wouldn’t lend him money if I were you. He’s a bum risk.”</p><p>The excitement and volume by which Tobio was playing intensified. Tooru hunched his shoulders to his ears, trying to hide them from what he considered to be unpleasant banging. “Tobio, is this really what you won your scholarship for?” he asked, followed by mocking the music with childish da-da-das.</p><p>“What’s wrong with it?” Tobio snapped.</p><p>Hajime perked up from the table, mouth full of scavenged brioche, “Evidently, the man doesn’t like jazz.”</p><p>“I’m against it,” Tooru said, folding his arms in front of his chest.</p><p>Hajime scoffed and walked back to the piano, coffee cup in hand, “What else is there?”</p><p>“Oh I know what he likes.” Tobio spat before changing his tone to something mockingly sweet, “He’s strictly a three-quarter man.”</p><p>When Tobio began to play a pleasant waltz, Tooru’s body relaxed. Unconsciously swaying to the rhythm. “Now that’s the ticket.”</p><p>“Ah,” Hajime’s eyes grew wide with realization and a wicked grin formed on his face, “Old Vienna and all that crap.”</p><p>Tobio attempted to stifle his laughter with minimal success.</p><p>Tooru scoffed, offended by the comment. “The waltzes of middle Europa charm you and warm your heart. What Broadway would lead you to believe is music, is nothing but emptiness pounding on tin. When I want a melody lilting through the house, then I want a melody by Strauss.”</p><p>“Why, I didn’t realize the emperor himself would be visiting us this morning.” Tobio commented, attempting to cut off the passionate rant.</p><p>“I’ll take om-pah-pah over ha-cha-cha any day!” Tooru aggressively answered back.</p><p>Hajime quietly eased his way out of the argument and placed his empty cup on a nearby table. “Well gentlemen this has been,” pausing a moment, struggling to come up with the appropriate adjective, “… nice… but I should be on my way. I’ll see you later Tobio. Tooru.” He gave a small, unnoticed wave before collecting the canvases he had placed at the table. Leaving the two musicians to continue quarreling without him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hajime sells some art and makes a new friend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Colorful canvases filled the sidewalk as Hajime marched up the hill of Montmartre. Fellow artists worked tirelessly on their creations while others hung their pieces hoping to attract a potential buyer. The farther he trudged, the more painters he encountered exhibiting their work. After some walking, he found his usual spot, proud of himself that this time he only had to backtrack once to find it. “Good morning, Madoka!” he called out to the woman set up across the street. She raised her head up from her work and returned his greeting with a cheerful smile.</p><p>Madoka was a bold, older woman that Hajime had taken notice of after the first few times he set up on that street when he had moved to Paris. They then began exchanging pleasantries and she had taken to giving him unwanted critiques, leading Hajime to believe she had a cold and harsh personality, but over time, he learned she saw great potential in him and wanted to see him succeed. She had sort of taken him under her wing, offering him advice and occasionally even treating him to lunch. He always did his best to return her kindness.</p><p>Hajime got to work hanging his paintings on the grey, brick wall that lined the sidewalk. His pieces tended to be focused on scenery, buildings especially -- he had fallen in love with the architecture. Plus, it was one of the few things that would not move when he was painting. He stepped back from the wall and placed his hands on his hips, pondering the layout of his pieces.</p><p>“I can understand disregarding perspective to achieve an effect, but I believe--”</p><p>Hajime sighed and looked over his shoulder. A young girl, not much younger than himself, stood behind him. “Why don’t you be good and move on? You’re not going to buy anything. You’re just blocking out the sunlight.”</p><p>“I just wanted to discuss your work,” she huffed.</p><p>He turned around to face the girl, “I don’t want you to discuss my work. I’m not interested in your opinion of it. If you say something nice it won’t make me feel any better and if you don’t it’ll bother me. Thanks. Have a good day.”</p><p>The girl huffed, her face turning scarlet and hands balling into tight fists before fleeing the scene. After watching her stomp off down the street, Hajime turned back to rearrange a few of his works. Unbeknownst to them, another woman had been observing the interaction. The artist’s brash honesty had made her curious. She made her way across the street and stopped just behind him.</p><p>“Do you mind if I look?” She let out a giggle, “Or will you chew my head off too?”</p><p>Hajime hung his head for a moment before turning to see who his new critic was. This one was young too, though a bit older. Dressed a lot more elegantly and she carried an air of casual sophistication. “Go ahead. You’re ok.” He leaned his back against the wall, giving her space to freely observe his art.</p><p>She gave him a wide grin and immediately stepped up to view the paintings. Hajime watched as her eyes enthusiastically consumed every line and brushstroke of his work. She took her time at each one, meticulously contemplating their composition. “She’s one of those third-year girls that drive me crazy,” Hajime commented after some time.</p><p>“Third-year girls?” she asked, not bothering to look up from his work. A hint of playful curiosity in her voice.</p><p>“Yeah, you know, those college girls that come abroad to lap up a little culture. They’re a pain,” he lazily spat out.</p><p>“Why? They’re harmless enough?”</p><p> “They’re intrusive and dull. They’re always making profound observations they’ve overheard.”</p><p>“You don’t like criticism?” she asked, turning her head to Hajime, waiting on his answer.</p><p>Hajime shrugged his shoulders, “Of course it’s helpful, but it doesn’t really mean anything coming from someone that doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”</p><p>She nodded in understanding and continued to make her way down the line of paintings. “I’m guessing business isn’t very good?” she teased, noticing he had a fair amount of work on display.</p><p>“You’d be correct,” he laughed dryly. The casualness of her tone of voice was an interesting contrast against her refined appearance. His eyes traveled the length of the white silk gloves she wore, down to the hem of her black fitted skirt, which rested just below her knee. The large, black cat eye sunglasses that sat on top of her ash blonde matched it perfectly.</p><p>“You know…” she began, rousing Hajime from his observation, “I like these two.”</p><p>“Thanks. So do I,” he quipped.</p><p>She whirled around on her heels to face Hajime while reaching for her pocketbook, “I want to buy them!”</p><p>The painter blinked a few times trying to process exactly what she had said. Typically, his days of attempting to sell anything were all busts. He had all but given up on making money off his paintings and made this journey everyday out of habit more than anything. He was unprepared. “Well, uh, I… I don’t know.”</p><p>“What do you mean you don’t know?” she laughed in disbelief.</p><p>“I never thought I’d come to the point where that would be an issue. Um…” he scratched his head, racking his brain for something reasonable only to come up short, “offer me something.”</p><p>The blonde placed a finger on her lips, thinking hard on a good deal. “Fifteen thousand francs! For each,” she offered. “Would that be satisfactory?</p><p>Hajime thought his heart was going to stop right there. “Yes…” He cleared his throat trying to rid his voice of any shock. “That would be.” That was enough money to take care of him for about a month and he was going to make it all off two of his own paintings. Doubt began to cloud his mind. “Are you sure you want to spend that much?”</p><p>“Oh, what do you care?” she remarked, waving him off with her free hand.</p><p>“Isn’t that almost,” he quickly did the calculation in his head while lifting the pieces off the brick wall, “fifty dollars each?”</p><p>She ignored his worried queries as she dug through her pocketbook for the cash.  She paused, a frown finding its way onto her features, “Oh goodness, I don’t have enough on me.”</p><p>Hajime’s shoulders sagged immediately at the news. “Well, you can come back tomorrow. I bet you they’ll still be here,” he said as he began to place the artwork back up.</p><p>“I have a better idea!” Hajime jumped at the blonde’s sudden outburst, “Come with me to the hotel I’m staying at? I can pay you there.”</p><p>Hajime cocked an eyebrow at the forwardness of her suggestion, “Fine… Is it far?”</p><p>“Would you care if it were?” She quickly turned back, leaning over into the street to wave her driver over. “By the way,” she turned back for a moment, displaying a cheeky grin, </p><p>“what’s your name?”</p><p>“Hajime Iwaizumi,” he answered, preparing his artwork for her to take, “What’s yours?”</p><p>“Alisa Haiba,” she responded while opening her car door and hopping in.</p><p>When Hajime turned around to hand off the paintings, his eyes grew wide and his breath hitched. He did his best to keep his mouth shut but he had not expected to see her sporting a Delage Cabriolet. “Is… uh… is this yours?” he finally managed to ask.</p><p>Alisa flashed him another cheeky smile as she patted the bright orange seat next to her, coaxing him into the luxurious vehicle.</p><p>“Maybe I should have charged you more,” he mumbled under his breath before joining her.</p><p>….. ….. ….. ….. …..</p><p>The trip to the hotel was a quick one. Thankfully leaving no room for awkward silence between the two as they rode down the streets of Paris. The driver had dropped them off directly in front of the main entrance before leaving to find a space to park. Hajime silently marveled at the vaulted ceilings and glittering arches of the lobby while closely following behind Alisa. Other hotel guests breezed by them wearing sharp suits and stylish gowns while some lounged around on the plush sofas. Hajime felt severely underdressed in his dingy white shirt and khaki dress pants. He held the paintings up a little closer to his chest.</p><p>After riding the elevator up six stories and walking down a hall, they arrived at her door. She removed one long glove so that she could retrieve her key from her pocketbook. Once unlocked, she stepped in and removed her second glove. She made an abrupt stop in the entryway and turned to Hajime. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home,” she said while moving past him to shut the door and then disappeared down the short hall to their left.</p><p>“Thanks,” Hajime called after her. He stepped forward into the main room and slowly spun around. He let out an impressed whistle after taking in his surroundings. Four of his studios could fit in this room easily. Beige Rococo style furniture decorated the space and was lit by golden sconces and one small chandelier. He moved over to one of the many large windows to a peek outside. Of course she would have a gorgeous view of the city, especially considering how high up the room was.</p><p>Alisa appeared out from the hallway and walked straight over to where Hajime was standing. “Here it is!” she announced cheerfully, lifting his hand so she could place the stack of bills in it. She allowed her hand to linger on his for a moment and tilted her head towards the couch, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Would you like some sherry?” she asked.</p><p> Hajime kept his eyes on the ground. Worried that his expression would reveal the slight nervousness that threatened to take over him. He was beginning to think that this was going a little further than he would have liked, but he was already here. “Alright,” he answered, moving to place the paintings down by the coffee table.<br/>
Alisa smiled and went to plop down on the couch. She leaned forward to grab a glass from the table so that she could fill it for her guest. Hajime focused on a beautiful white and gold partition that was used to cover a corner of the room. “So,” he began, as he made his way closer to the couch, “how did you happen to find yourself in such an extravagant lifestyle? Your husband? Or your father?”</p><p>The blonde let out a small laugh, “My father.”</p><p>“What does he do?”</p><p>“Oil.” She handed off the full glass up to Hajime.</p><p>“I should have known.”</p><p>“Suntan oil.”</p><p>“Really?” he asked in disbelief, “I had no idea there was so much in that racket.”</p><p>Alisa stood up from the couch and moved over to pick up her new art. “No one likes a sunburn,” she answered, examining each piece in her hands. Her eyes moved up to the wall. “Now,” she began, slowly spinning in place, “where should I hang these?”</p><p>Hajime took a drink from his glass before setting it down on the table. He studied each wall carefully before gingerly taking one of the paintings from her hands. “I got a place. Good light,” he moved over to the wall opposite of the large windows and placed it next to a huge gold mirror, “Not too much sun.” He turned his head to gauge her reaction.</p><p>“Oh, that’s terrific!” She looked back down to the remaining painting in her hand. A smile creeping back on her face. “These really are something,” she said, sitting back down on<br/>
the couch. “You know, I’ve seen hundreds of paintings by young artists and none of them have impressed like these.”</p><p>“Well, I’m glad,” Hajime placed his hand on the top of the couch so that he could lean over and study the art Alisa was so captivated by, “makes it easier to give up.”</p><p>Alisa tilted her head to the side, unsure if she heard the painter correctly. “Give up?” she asked.</p><p>Hajime shrugged, “It’s kind of hard for an artist to sell. A writer or composer can always buy a copy of what they create but for an artist, it’s the original that counts. Once that’s gone it’s out of his life.”</p><p>Alisa frowned at the painter’s cynical view and looked back down to the artwork in her hands. “I never thought about it that way.”</p><p>A loud ring from the telephone drew Alisa’s attention away. She hopped off the couch and made her way over to answer. “Oh, hello Levochka. Um, no, don’t come up. Actually, would you mind waiting for me in the dining room? I’ll be right down.” The phone made a soft click when it met the receiver. She turned back to face Hajime, placing both hands on the table behind her so she could lean back a bit.</p><p>Hajime took one last drink before setting the empty glass back down on the table. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to stay so long,” he said as he pulled at this tucked shirt, ensuring that it was properly adjusted.</p><p>“Oh, don’t apologize. I wanted you to,” she reassured. “I wish we had more time to talk.”</p><p>The painter gave a weary smile. “Well, good-bye. Thank you.” He gave an awkward bow, unsure of how to end a social interaction with someone of her status. He rolled his eyes at his foolishness, careful to not let Alisa see, and made for the exit.</p><p>Alisa pushed off the table so that she could see him off. “By the way,” she called after him, “what are you doing tonight?”</p><p>Hajime stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Why?”</p><p>“I’m throwing a small party here tonight and there’ll be an extra girl. Why don’t you swing by?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” his eyes narrowed, suspicious of what kind of game the rich blonde was playing with him.</p><p>“Why not?” She smiled. “Do you have a date?”</p><p>A faint blush dusted his cheeks, but he kept a cool expression. “No.” It had been a few months since he had anyone like that in his life.</p><p>“Then come by. I’m sure you’ll find some company here.”</p><p>Hajime took a moment to think of an answer. Something in his gut was telling him it was a bad idea. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, and he knew she was up to something. Unfortunately, he was unable to come up with a polite way to decline her invitation. “Ok,” he answered hesitantly.</p><p>“Terrific!” Alisa clapped her hands with delight before plopping back down on the couch, “Nothing formal. Be here at eight. Oh, and my car can take you home, he has nothing to do.”</p><p>Hajime continued towards the door. Just as he was about to leave, he turned back to Alisa, “Thank you… for everything.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter had some fun banter in it and it was fun to write.</p><p>In my first draft Alisa was Saeko and it made me uncomfortable to write.</p><p>I can't wait to post the next chapter 'cause that's when the fun starts.</p><p>Thanks for reading!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[Y/N] finally appears, Alisa makes a move and Hajime fails at flirting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hajime sat hunched over on the gold and beige couch of Alisa’s suite, knee feverishly bouncing as he attempted to distract himself with the newspaper he found on the table. He had been the first to arrive, precisely at eight o’clock as instructed, and seemed to have been the only guest to have shown. The watch’s face read eight seventeen. He sighed and sank into the couch, head leaning back to stare at the ceiling. Perhaps in the world of the upper class it was in poor taste to arrive on time.</p>
<p>“Good evening! Sorry I’m late.” Alisa glided into the main room in a flowy, white off the shoulder gown, a half drank martini in hand.</p>
<p>Hajime jumped up from the couch and stood stiffly in his handsome grey suit to greet her, “Good evening…” </p>
<p>“As soon as I went to get dressed, the phone just wouldn’t stop ringing! Would you like one of these?” she asked, holding the glass up to his dazed face.</p>
<p>He blinked twice before nodding his head. Alisa sashayed across to the bar cart so she could pour her guest a drink.</p>
<p>“Do you live here all the time?” Hajime kept his gaze locked on one of the windows while his fingers fidgeted with the ends of his jacket sleeves.</p>
<p>“Oh no. I usually go home during the cooler months.”</p>
<p>His eyes glanced sideways at her as he heard the tinkling of ice hitting glass. Her light hair was now done up in a braided bun. He found it difficult to pull his stare away from her fair, exposed shoulder. “That’s… quite a dress you have on.”</p>
<p>She slowly turned, a freshly made martini in hand. The white gown flowed behind her as she strode over to Hajime. Stopping just in front of him to offer the delicate glass. “Thank you.” She gave a soft smile.</p>
<p>Hajime took the drink, their glasses making a soft clink as they touched. The glint of her necklace caught his eye; pure white pearls sat delicately on her collarbones. No doubt expensive. “It seems this is a bit more formal than what you had told me.”</p>
<p>She hummed, making her way to sit. “What makes you say that?”</p>
<p>“The more formal the party is,” Hajime began, following his host, “the less comfortable the attire is.”</p>
<p>“Well, you’d be wrong. I’d say this is pretty informal.”</p>
<p>Hajime turned his knees towards her. “Where is everybody?”</p>
<p>“Here.” Alisa draped her arm over the rest, settling into the couch.</p>
<p>He blinked twice. “…downstairs?”</p>
<p>“No. Here.” She wore a sheepish grin, unable to look Hajime in the eyes. “In this room.”</p>
<p>“… the extra girl?” His mind slowly began piecing the information together.</p>
<p>“That’s me,” she admitted before taking a sip of her drink.</p>
<p>“…so the party’s just you and me?” His eyes narrowed, scrunching his brow. “Kind of a little joke, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“In a way.” She beamed.</p>
<p>Hajime whistled and leaned back, using the momentum to hop up from his seat. “Well, here’s your money back.” He pulled the wad of bills from his jacket pocket and threw them on the table. “I’ll just take my pictures and be on my way.” He moved to gather his artwork and made his way towards the door.</p>
<p>She quickly sat upright. “Now wait just a minute!”</p>
<p>He looked up at the ceiling before turning back to face Alisa. “Wait my foot. You must be out of your mink-lined head. I might be short on funds, but I don’t need money this badly.” He gestured to her on the couch. “If you’re hard up for companionship there are guys in town that do this kind of thing for a living. Call one of them.” He attempted to make a hasty exit once again but was interrupted by a fit of giggles. He snapped back around to see Alisa with a hand over her mouth in an attempt to keep a lid on her composure. One of his eyebrows rose. “What’s so funny?”</p>
<p>“You! You’re so righteous.” She placed her glass on the table and sprang up. “Now stop defending your honor so aggressively and listen to me for a minute.” Alisa walked straight up to Hajime, gaze unwavering from his. “I don’t need a paid escort and I’m not trying to rob you of your precious male initiative. I’m simply interested in your work and I want to get to know you better.” Her expression softened. “Now is that such a crime?”</p>
<p>Hajime frowned and leaned against the door frame with his free hand. “Well this certainly is a roundabout way to do it.”</p>
<p>“Would you have accepted a normal invitation?”</p>
<p>His eyes moved to his left. And then up. And then back to meet Alisa’s. “…No.”</p>
<p>“I want to help you! You have a great deal of talent.” She let out a soft laugh. “It doesn’t hurt to have somebody rooting for you, does it?”</p>
<p>He sighed. “It’ll be the first time anybody ever did.”</p>
<p>“Well then let me.” She extended her hand out, fingers lightly brushing the edge of one of the canvases. “Please?”</p>
<p>Hajime bit the inside of his cheek. As long as it remained professional, perhaps this could be a beneficial friendship. He handed Alisa the paintings. “…How’s the food downstairs?”</p>
<p>She smiled. “Very good!” She hurriedly placed the art back and went to the table for their drinks.</p>
<p>“And probably pretty expensive.”</p>
<p>Alisa nearly bounced as she walked back to Hajime. “Would it embarrass you if I signed the check?”</p>
<p>Hajime took a deep breath in and scratched the back of his head. “No… but… Let’s go someplace I can afford.”</p>
<p>Her smile disappeared for a moment but quickly returned. “Oh! How about The Café Flaudere on Montparnasse? I feel like some jazz and it’s not very expensive.”</p>
<p>“I sure hope not.” He extended his elbow out to Alisa, which she graciously accepted. “I’d like to show a little profit at the end of the day.”<br/>….. ….. ….. ….. …..</p>
<p>The haze of cigarette smoke flooded the hall while the warm sound of brass and percussion mingled with the chatter and laughter of its patrons. Artwork reminiscent of ancient cave paintings decorated the stone walls. Hajime and Alisa managed to push their way through the crowd of dancing couples and gossiping friends and found a table towards the back. They had both ordered their drinks and their topic of discussion had turned from polite small talk to old romances.</p>
<p>“How long did it last?” Hajime asked, leaning forward a bit on his forearms that rested on the table.</p>
<p>“Oh, about two years,” she sighed and took a sip before continuing. “He passed.”</p>
<p>“Ah… I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>She tried her best to hold her serious expression but failed when a giggle escaped her lips. “He passed on me for another woman. Somebody he met while he was away on business.”</p>
<p>Hajime let out the breath he was holding and gave a nervous smile. “Well if he was the ass you said he was, I bet you were glad to get rid of him.”</p>
<p>“Well… I was, I guess…” She leaned back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap. “Except-“</p>
<p>“Except that it would have been much more satisfying if you could have shot first.”</p>
<p>“I guess,” she laughed, lifting her cup to her lips, a light blush dusting her cheeks.</p>
<p>Hajime leaned back in his seat. “You know, you should get married again.”</p>
<p>“Why?” She leaned in and put her cup down before even taking a drink.</p>
<p>“Everybody has to have someone to account to,” he shrugged, “especially if you don’t work. It keeps the personality together.”</p>
<p>Alisa waved her hand, “Oh I don’t think so. Besides, I have work.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Well at the moment, you.” She played with her pearl necklace and leaned closer on her elbow. “I want to bring you to the attention of important dealers. They know me. I’m a big customer. I could sponsor you. Talk about you. Encourage you. And then when you’d done enough canvases, I could arrange for your first show. That is if you’d let me.”</p>
<p>Hajime rested his chin in his hand. He had focused his gaze on the wall just to the left of her. “That’s fine but,” his eyes met Alisa’s, “what’s in it for you?”</p>
<p>“The excitement of helping somebody I believe in and finding out if I’m right.”</p>
<p>The painter moved his stare down to his coffee, watching the bubbles slowly dissipate. It was true that networking was not his forte and it would be great to have someone in his corner. She did seem eager to hold that position in this life. A little too eager though for his liking.</p>
<p>“Alisa!” A vigorously waving hand shot up out of the crowd at the bar. “Alisa Haiba!” Alisa perked up and Hajime turned in his seat towards the shout. A man with a wild hair style was barreling towards their table. Hajime quickly glanced back at Alisa. Her surprised expression had morphed into one of delight upon recognizing who was calling her. “Taketora! I knew you’d turn up here.”</p>
<p>Hajime rose from his seat as his host exchanged pleasantries with her acquaintance. Waiting for his turn to be introduced.</p>
<p>“Oh, Taketora, this is Hajime Iwaizumi. Hajime, this is Taketora Yamamoto. He’s on the Paris Telegraph.”</p>
<p>Taketora eyed Hajime with a narrowed gaze, before quickly shaking Hajime’s hand out of politeness. Hajime silently gritted his teeth. The speed of Taketora’s greeting was surpassed by the monstrous amount force used to crush Hajime’s hand. After allowing Hajime to have his hand back, he immediately turned his attention to the blonde. “Alisa, I’m showing the Tanaka’s around and I need your help.”</p>
<p>“What do you say, Hajime? Shall we go to his rescue?”</p>
<p>“I suppose,” he answered, attempting to casually flex his right hand at his side.</p>
<p>Taketora grinned. “Follow me. You need radar to get through all this smoke!” He charged through the crowd, not even bothering to make sure his companions were following behind.</p>
<p>Alisa and Hajime tried their best to stay together. His hand hovered just above her bare shoulder in case a patron stepped in between and separated them. He leaned his face in closer to Alisa’s head. “Who are the Tanakas?”</p>
<p>“Magazine Illustrators,” she called back.</p>
<p>“What are they like?”</p>
<p>“Oh,” she chortled, taking a moment to find the right word to describe the couple, “they’re an interesting pair!”</p>
<p>The invisible tether keeping the two together was severed when a dancing pair knocked into Hajime’s side. He was able to regain his footing, but unfortunately a few people had slithered their way between him and Alisa. Luckily because of his height he did not lose sight of her and managed to find his way to the table.</p>
<p>“Look what I found!” Taketora announced to his small group. They all exchanged greetings as Hajime made his way over. Since he was so focused on quickly reaching his destination, he had barely registered the slight pressure of your shoulder hitting his chest.</p>
<p>Just as he looked down to apologize, he found himself forgetting how to speak. His lips slightly parted and unable to move. Your surprised face changed into a smile. Heat suddenly rose in his cheeks as you looked up at him. You turned back to your group and sat with them when your friend pulled out and offered you a chair. Hajime slowly shuffled over to his own party, finding it difficult to keep his eyes on his destination rather than you.</p>
<p>“This is Hajime Iwaizumi. The painter I was telling you about at lunch. Hajime, this is Kiyoko and Ryunosuke.”</p>
<p>Hajime was knocked back to his senses after hearing his name. He found an open chair between Alisa’s wild friend and a woman with straight, black hair. Her dark eyes seemed to hide her thoughts, which fed into her refined aura. She was reserved, leaning with her back straight against the chair. Delicate hands folded in her lap. The man Hajime assumed was her husband, however, was her polar opposite. He seemed to be cut from the same cloth as Taketora, flailing his hands around as he spoke with Taketora and laughing loudly.</p>
<p>“Alisa says you’re quite talented. I’d love to see some of your work.” Kiyoko commented.</p>
<p>“I’m having a private showing tomorrow at a corner in Montmartre,” he answered mechanically but still managed to give it a bite of his brand of sarcasm.</p>
<p>“You paint?” Ryunosuke asked suddenly. Stopping his story midway through to chat with Hajime. “So do Kiyoko and I! We work together.” He called the waiter over and requested two more glasses of wine for the table.</p>
<p>“That’s cozy.” Hajime tried his best but could not keep himself focused on the small talk taking place in front of him. His eyes kept drifting in your direction, watching as you excitedly chatted with your friends.</p>
<p>“You know, I think you two should dance.” Taketora gestured to his married friends. “I wanna talk to Alisa.”</p>
<p>Kiyoko had no time to protest. Ryunosuke immediately jumped up at the suggestion and grabbed his wife, practically dragging her to the dance floor.<br/>Hajime casually leaned back in his chair and stretched his neck, using his hand to massage out some of the tension that suddenly struck him and using his eyes to watch as you laughed with your friends.</p>
<p>Taketora had noticed Hajime’s eyes wandering since they sat down. He followed the painter’s stare to the next table over and caught a glimpse of you causing a wicked grin to spread across his face. “Ah, so that’s your type, eh?” he sniggered and nudged Hajime’s side with his elbow. Hajime kept a straight face, but his eyes grew wide, having been caught by the not so oblivious rabble-rouser.</p>
<p>“Taketora! I really am excited for you to see Hajime’s work!” Alisa interjected, startling the two gentlemen. “Maybe if you like it, you can give him a mention on the art page.”</p>
<p>Hajime strained his ears, trying nonchalantly to hear what your voice sounded like. If he was lucky, maybe he could catch your name or anything about you really.</p>
<p>“Sure, I could, Alisa.”</p>
<p>Finally, he caught something. “[y/n],” he blurted out, much louder than he had intended to. Alisa and Taketora exchanged puzzled looks at the utterance. Hajime coughed and laughed nervously before muttering an apology. Hot embarrassment took over him and he began frantically bouncing his knee, wishing he could be anywhere else than the smokey club.</p>
<p>The blonde heiress frowned, disappointed that her attempts to reroute his fixation away from you had failed.</p>
<p>“Alisa, let’s dance. I haven’t danced with you in a long time,” Taketora propositioned, having sensed his friend’s discomfort. He stood and offered his hand. She cheerfully accepted it and the pair joined the others.</p>
<p>“You’re gonna have trouble with that one,” Taketora said, moving in close to Alisa’s ear as they danced.</p>
<p>“Oh no I’m not. He’s just not… housebroken yet.”</p>
<p>Taketora squeezed her hand tenderly. “When are you gonna stop getting yourself involved with these kinda guys? It never works. If they’re no good, you get embarrassed and if they are, they get too independent.”</p>
<p>She leaned her head on his shoulder. Unable to look him in the eye. “Just dance, Taketora, please.”</p>
<p>He scoffed. “Alright but I’m warning you, he’ll be out in four months. Just like the composer and the sculptor.”</p>
<p>Her eyes looked for Hajime. She had made a bad habit of falling for men with wandering eyes. Even though her new target had not been welcoming to all her advances, she had hoped she at least had a chance. Alisa could not help but sigh as she watched Hajime try his hardest to casually observe the girl at the next table over. Though his expression revealed nothing, his darting eyes and inability to sit still made it so painfully obvious.</p>
<p>The desire to talk to you was eating away at him. His finger tirelessly tapped the surface of the table as he plotted. If he could just introduce himself to you without seeming like a desperate fool. If he could just get you to dance. Hajime got up from his seat and confidently strode to your table. “[Y/N]!” You frowned. He greeted you as if you two were longtime friends. “I didn’t see you sitting here.”</p>
<p>You nervously smiled at your friends. “I’m afraid I don’t-” you started, shaking your head as the handsome stranger took your hands in his.</p>
<p>“What a pleasant surprise,” Hajime continued, making sure to not give you enough time to protest. “You know, just the other day my wife and I were talking and wondering about what happened to you. I’m Hajime Iwaizumi,” he announced to your friends. “[y/n] let’s dance. For old times sake.” He cast a charming smile down at you while lightly tugging your arm towards the dance floor. You attempted to resist but ultimately allowed him to guide you over; impressed with the swiftness he had executed his scheme. </p>
<p>“Well, you’re certainly not without your nerve,” you chided while you placed your right hand in his.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry. Please, don’t be angry,” he softly pleaded. “This was perfectly harmless. I promise. I just…” He looked deep into your [e/c] eyes. “wanted a chance to talk to you.”</p>
<p>A light blush painted your cheeks at the confession. The truth was you had felt his eyes on you since your little run in, and you really did not mind. He was tall and handsome, with his short dark hair and strong green eyes. Unfortunately, the path your life was on did not allow you to fall for the advances of this stranger. You blinked twice before rolling your eyes, finding your mettle once again. “I only let you do this because I didn’t want to make a scene.”</p>
<p>“Oh, and I don’t have a wife. I just threw that in to make it look respectable.”</p>
<p>“Wow, that was very considerate.” Hajime laughed, sensing the sarcasm that soaked your words. “Now please, I’d like to return to my table.”</p>
<p>“Just a second,” he leaned his head down. You could feel the warmth radiating off his cheek as it lightly brushed yours. “Please?” His voice a low, gentle whisper.</p>
<p>Your scowl melted into something softer. An unfamiliar comfort enveloped your body as the two of you swayed in time to the music. His left hand barely caressing your lower back. You could not detect any sort of ill intent from this handsome stranger and allowed your head to rest on his shoulder and closed your eyes.</p>
<p>Across the way, Alisa’s body stiffened. Noticing that you had eased into Hajime’s hold on you. “You know what?” Taketora frowned and whirled her around, placing himself so that he blocked her view. “I change my mind. Make it two months.”<br/>As pleasant as this unexpected experience had been, your mind began to wonder what the end goal for this man was. You had allowed this to go on long enough. Your eyes snapped open and you moved your head so that you could meet his gaze. Hajime’s contentment shattered when he saw that your scowl had returned. Suddenly nervous that perhaps he had been too forward after all. “[y/n], I swear this is the first time I’ve ever done anything like this.”</p>
<p>You huffed. “Look, I don’t know what type of girl you think I am, but I’m not and I’d really like to get back to my friends.”</p>
<p>“Weren’t you bored? You sure looked it,” he teased, attempting his best to lighten your oncoming irritation.</p>
<p>Still keeping your hand in his, you pulled away and froze in place. Causing your partner’s smile to disappear. “You should see me now.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Ouch.</em>
</p>
<p>As if on cue, the crowd applauded the band as they ended their song. Hajime let out a sigh. With a weak smile, he offered his elbow out recognizing his defeat. You accepted and he escorted you back to your seat. Once back at your table, Hajime wrapped up his charade. “[y/n], it was great seeing you again. I’ll have Madoka call you.” A candy-coated smirk formed on his lips. You tilted your head slightly and your eyes narrowed, wondering what trick he had up his sleeve. “Now,” he placed his hand on the back of your chair so he could lean in closer, “what was your number? It just slipped my mind even though you just told me.”</p>
<p>This man certainly was quick on his feet. Since he wanted to play so bad, you decided you would as well. “Opera two five seven four.” You gave him a sickeningly sweet smile.</p>
<p>“No, [y/n]. Two four seven five,” your friend corrected.</p>
<p>Hajime turned his charming grin to your friend and thanked her. Your stomach dropped. So much for your great plan. You internally cursed the helpful nature of your friend. “Good night.” His gaze lingered on you as he moved to return to his original seat with his party.</p>
<p>Both couples had returned from the floor. Ryunosuke and Taketora were back to telling their wild stories while Kiyoko and Alisa sipped their wine. The blonde’s frown returned as Hajime’s eyes found their way back to you. She looked to her friends and let out a yawn. “Well, I’m tried!” she announced. A little too cheerfully. “Good night!” Her friends bid them good night as Alisa made her way to Hajime’s seat. He stood up to help her with her coat. Hajime leaned down to Taketora before exiting. “Don’t I owe you something for the wine?”</p>
<p>He let out a sour chuckle. “Forget it. You do it next time.” He stared straight up at Hajime. “If there is one.”</p>
<p>Untroubled by the bite of Taketora’s tone, he took one more look at you. Even though you could feel his eyes on you once again, you refused to give him the satisfaction of anymore of your attention. Once you were sure he had disappeared into the crowd, you looked back. Hoping to catch just one more glimpse of the handsome, determined stranger.</p>
<p>….. ….. ….. ….. …..</p>
<p>The green roadster made its way through the dark streets of Paris. Hajime watched the storefronts pass by through the windows. Alisa sat beside him, silently unbuttoning each of her long silk gloves. Wetness pricking at the corners of her eyes. He absentmindedly hummed the tune he had danced to with you. “That was fun, wasn’t it?” A smile creeping onto his face.</p>
<p>“Was it?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s a fascinating place. I’d like to hang around there for a while and paint it.”</p>
<p>“If you hang around there, I can imagine all the work you’ll get done.” Her motions became more forceful. Hajime slowly turned to her, confused by her aggressive tone. “Besides, you’ve already painted a Montmartre dive. It wasn’t very successful. And another thing-”</p>
<p>“Now wait a minute,” Hajime interjected, cutting her off from her tirade. The hand resting on his knee balled into a tight fist, “don’t tell me how and what to paint. I don’t like that-“</p>
<p>Alisa scowled and snapped her attention to Hajime. “I can tell you I didn’t like your exhibition tonight!” She turned back to focus on the driver’s seat. “I thought you were very rude.” Her voice cracked, but she was determined not to let any tears fall.</p>
<p>Hajime’s hard expression softened, and his posture relaxed. Embarrassment took over as he began to understand that his advances had come off as far too desperate to more than just you. “Rude? I was? Well, I didn’t mean to be. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. Yeah that’s clear. That’s very clear.” The familiar feeling of irritation replaced Hajime’s embarrassment. He sucked in air through his teeth and bit his bottom lip. Holding back the few choice words he had wanted to say. His original hunch had been correct. There was no way this business arrangement would be worth the effort. “Stop the car, please.”</p>
<p>“You sensitive artists, you’re all alike,” The floodgates of Alisa’s hurt and embarrassment burst wide open. She had no control over the erratic speed of which she continued to scold Hajime, “you’re as touchy as strings about yourselves but you’re oblivious of other people’s feelings you don’t understand how they feel once things happen-”</p>
<p>“I. Am getting. Out.” The moment the car stopped Hajime’s hand flew to the handle. He had stopped listening about halfway through her rant. She had reassured him multiple times that this relationship was to be strictly professional. While he was willing to admit he could have been more considerate of her feelings, this outburst was completely unwarranted. They were not involved romantically, and he blocked any attempts to further it in that direction. He slammed the door shut upon exiting the vehicle. Just before trudging home, he stuck his head through the open window. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with the pictures.”</p>
<p>“I still like the pictures!” Alisa snapped back, eyes glistening with tears. She shut her eyes and turned away, hating that he saw her unraveling like this. She wished she had been able to hold her composure at least until he had gotten home.</p>
<p>Hajime shoved his hands into his pockets and started to stomp off into the night. Not bothering to watch Alisa's car drive off. What a nightmare this whole thing had been. His pace slowed as he began to go through the events of the day. Still mentally kicking himself that he had agreed to go along with this even though he had seen all the warning signs. Though, if he had not gone through this ordeal, it was very likely that he never would have met you. He stopped on a street corner and looked up to the night sky. The stars were barely visible. Hajime let out a long sigh and wondered which direction would be fastest to get home.</p>
<p>At least he had your number.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is my favorite chapter and I hope it's yours too.</p>
<p>Thank you so much for taking the time to read this!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hajime takes a chance, Alisa makes amends and you go against you best judgment.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Head still stewing on last night’s events, Hajime ambled down his building’s stairs to the café. He had been up for hours, debating whether or not to actually use the number he had skillfully stolen from you. It seemed like a bad idea considering how short you had been with him. Though there was one moment that gave him hope that he still had a shot. That moment he felt you melt into his arms. The feeling of your warmth against his chest had stuck with him through the night. It made him feel light. Even with your stinging sarcasm, there was an electricity the two of you shared that he knew you would not be able to deny. He knew he could not.</p>
<p>He slowly dialed the numbers you had given, one by one his finger tapping the handset as he waited for someone to pick up. A sweet voice that Hajime did not recognize answered. In his best French, he asked to speak with you and could hear your coworker call you over. He felt his pulse quicken at the mere mention of your name and he took a few deep breaths.</p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p>Hajime could not help the smile that grew on his face when he heard your voice. “[Y/N]? It’s Hajime Iwaizumi.”</p>
<p>Silence.</p>
<p>“We met last night at the café?” he tried again.</p>
<p>A sea of butterflies burst in your stomach as you recalled your slow dance in the hazy café with the man from the night before. The unwavering gaze of his dark, green eyes. His delicate hold on your waist. Even though his hand seemed to hover just above your side, he had somehow managed to get you to relax against him. The thought of allowing this handsome stranger to pursue you was enticing but, due to your current romantic arrangement, you felt forced to decline. There was no way that he was oblivious to your attempts of blowing him off last night, yet for some reason he persisted. Considering how tenacious he was, turning him down could prove to be a challenge. You pushed out air from your nose before you answered. “Oh. You.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Me.” His confidence slowly began to deteriorate, but he powered through. “You know, [Y/N], it’s a beautiful day out… I thought I could drop by-“</p>
<p>Absolutely not. It was time to cut him down. “Well now, one moment Mr. Iweizumi-”</p>
<p>He pinched the bridge of his nose as he winced, “Iwaizumi.”</p>
<p>“Last night you were a small annoyance,” you continued, unphased by the correction and determined to stand your ground, “but today you’re growing into a large nuisance. Now please, I need to get back to work. Don’t call again.”</p>
<p>The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. You could not have given Hajime a clearer answer. He walked over to the table where his breakfast had been waiting and slumped into the chair. Maybe he was not as good at reading people as he had thought he was. Though he had gone against his instincts yesterday and what a fine mess that had turned into. Something did not feel right about letting you go. Maybe if he could just talk to you in person.</p>
<p>Cold coffee flowed out of the pot and into his cup. Just as he was about to take a drink, a metallic flash caught his eye. A bored driver was lazily leaning against a familiar green Delage with bright orange seats. Hajime blinked twice. She wouldn’t? Would she? Not after the spat they had last night. He would have thought that she never wanted to see him again. He was comfortable with that fact even. Still lost in thought, Hajime lifted the cup to his lips, allowing the cold, bitter liquid into his mouth.</p>
<p>“Good morning.”</p>
<p>Hajime jumped and nearly spat out his coffee, startled by the sudden close greeting. There, sitting next to him in the once unoccupied seat was Alisa wearing a wide grin. Wide eyed and bushy tailed, no trace of puffiness in her eyes. No one would have known he had made her cry just the night before.</p>
<p>“Good morning.” His greeting was slow and apprehensive, unnerved by her sudden arrival. “Would you care for…?” Hajime gestured to the coffee pot and lone pastry on the table.<br/>“No, thank you! I already ate. I’ve been up for hours!” She leaned over to rest her arms on the table. “Working, I might add, for you. Do you know Jules Parmentier? The art dealer?”<br/>Her tone was far more pleasant than the last time they had spoken, but Hajime was weary of the rapid pacing of her words. “I know of him.”</p>
<p>“He came to the hotel and we had coffee this morning. I showed him your pictures! Oh, he was very impressed. He said you had great individuality. He thought they were very fresh.”</p>
<p>“That’s wonderf-”</p>
<p>“Not only that! He wants to talk to us when you’re ready for your show!” She clapped her hands together in front of her chest.</p>
<p>“That’s a long way off.”</p>
<p>“Maybe not such a long way.”</p>
<p>“Oh yes it is.” He scratched the back of his head, trying to remember how many canvases he had completed. “I don’t have near enough for an exhibition and what I do have, I’m not sure-”</p>
<p>Alisa patted his hand. “That’s not important right now. Anyway! Then I went to the Marais Galleries and talked to Louis DuFond. He’s a very old friend of mine. He’s coming tomorrow to see the pictures.” She rested her chin in her hand, eyes downcast, smile never leaving her face.</p>
<p>“You don’t waste any time, do you?” He smirked. He had to admit, after the phone conversation he had this morning, all the effort Alisa was putting in to get his work acknowledged was a nice confidence boost.</p>
<p>She looked up at him, face devoid of any discernible emotion. “I hope not.” She promptly discarded her grave expression for her usual cheerfulness. “Alright, how about you come with me now, we’ll talk about this later over lunch?”</p>
<p>His fingers idly scratched at the surface of the table. “I have something I have to do this morning, but I could meet you.”</p>
<p>“How about the restaurant Paul on the Avenue de L’Opera?”</p>
<p>Hajime politely smiled. “Alright.”</p>
<p>Alisa bounced up. “One o’clock then!” She stood in front of Hajime, head bowed while she rocked back and forth on her heels, almost like a nervous child afraid to ask their parent for a favor when they knew they did not deserve it. “I’m sorry about that little tiff last night. I was… tired I guess.”</p>
<p>He stood, eyes looking past her, out into the street. “Oh, forget it.” She looked up at him through her lashes has he lightly patted her shoulder. If she was looking for some sort of apology from him, she was not going to get it. He had actually been hoping that he would not even have to acknowledge their argument at all, but he truly did appreciate her effort. “I did.”</p>
<p>Her eyes grew wide, “You did? Well that’s not very nice of you.” A lighthearted smirk played at her lips. “I’ll see you at one.” She giggled and pranced out of the café before Hajime could say another word.</p>
<p>….. ….. ….. ….. …..</p>
<p>This was probably one of the more impulsive decisions he had made in his life, but he had realized he needed to do something bold if he was going to prove to you that he was worth your time. Hajime kept light on his feet, zipping by smartly dressed women walking their dogs and couples enjoying their summer afternoon stroll. His eyes scanned every boutique he passed until the soft fragrance of roses and lavender in the air caused him to freeze in his tracks. Here.</p>
<p>Nicole Parfumeur.</p>
<p>Finally. Luckily for Hajime, you seemed to surround yourself with people who were more willing to divulge information about you than you were willing to about yourself. Even though your coworker was just doing her job by stating the name of your workplace when she answered the phone, he was grateful to her. How else was he going to find you ever again?  While showing up to your workplace unannounced had the huge potential to completely blow up in his face, he was desperate. And he hated it. He had worked hard on cultivating his steadfast reputation and you were threatening to obliterate it with a simple chance meeting. Something in his gut was telling him he had to try, one last time and if you turned him down, he swore he would give up. The two of you would be no more than two ships passing in the night.</p>
<p>His strong hand opened the heavy door, the scent of roses mixing with a multitude of other florals became pungent, assaulting his nose. Beautiful glass bottles of all shapes and colors, containing the essences of cool summer evenings and warm spring days filled nearly every corner of the shop. Hajime wondered which was your favorite as he ran his hand over the velvet cushion of an empty stool near the front counter. His ear perked up when he heard the familiar melody of your voice. Looking over his shoulder, he saw you helping an older woman with a kind face. You showed no signs of having noticed him enter and he used this to his advantage.</p>
<p>Once you had gone to retrieve a fragrance for your client, he snuck over and leaned against the counter directly behind you. Patiently waiting for you to discover him. You moved a few bottles around before making your final selection and rushing right past the tall painter, completely unaware of his presence. “Oh, this one is very nice!”</p>
<p>Hajime quickly turned on his heels, slowly tailing behind you as you made your way back to your client. He leaned on the display counter while idly playing with the reject bottles you had not put back yet. “It’s called,” you began as you handed off the bottle you had selected to your client, stopping for a moment to glance at the new presence you felt at your counter.  Your smile faltered when you noticed just who was standing there. A smug look on his face. Apparently, you had not been clear enough. “It’s called Escapade,” you finished, your pleasant tone returning. You placed both hands on the counter, pushing down with most of your weight as you leaned towards Hajime. “There’s a saleslady free at the other end of the shop, sir.”</p>
<p>Placing the bottle he had been fiddling with down, his eyes found yours. “Thank you,” he leaned in as close as modesty would allow him, “but what I want is at this end.”<br/>A sudden rush of heat bloomed from the pit of your stomach and displayed itself as light pink blossoms on your cheeks. The intensity of his dark eyes made you forget where you were for a moment. They froze you in place, even though you desperately tried to look anywhere else.</p>
<p>“Oh, I don’t know which to choose!” The old woman held up two fragrances in her hands, examining each one carefully, oblivious to the aggressive flirtation you were slowly succumbing to. “They’re both lovely. I wish my husband were here. He’s always so fussy about how I smell.”</p>
<p>Thankful to the woman for drawing Hajime’s attention from you for a split second so you could free yourself, your best customer service performance continued. “Why don’t you bring him later and you can decide then?”</p>
<p>“That’s an excellent idea.” Hajime beamed. The second you were sure the woman wasn’t looking you shot him the ugliest look of annoyance you could manage. Careful not to look him directly in the eyes.</p>
<p>“Oh but he’s away! Dear oh dear I hate decisions.”</p>
<p>“Ma’am, I could help you choose. I could give you a man’s perspective.”</p>
<p>“Would you? That would be wonderful!” The woman clapped her hands together before handing Hajime her two options. “Here, see which one you’d like.”</p>
<p>You watched skeptically as Hajime took the stopper out of the first bottle and lifted it to his nose. He tilted his head from side to side, contemplating the light aroma of vanilla and cinnamon he had inhaled. It was a comforting scent. Not overpowering. He pulled the stopper out of the second bottle after placing the first one back. Immediately upon breathing in, his eyes fluttered shut. “Oh this is it.” He examined the bottle before showing it to the woman. “Nuit d’Amour. Night of Love. No contest.”</p>
<p>“Really?” she asked, her fingers tracing over the label on the bottle.</p>
<p>“You wear that, and your husband won’t know what to do with himself.” A sincere smile appeared on his face and his eyes radiated a comforting warmth.</p>
<p>Her face lit up. “I’ll take it!” She hastily rummaged around in her purse and pulled out her credit card. “Please send it to my hotel, here’s all my information.”</p>
<p>You did your best to concentrate on the words coming out of your client’s mouth, but out of the corner of your eye you could see Hajime’s gaze had returned to you. Watching as the cursive letters flowed gracefully out of the pen you were writing with. The same smile and warmth in his eyes was still there. At first you had believed that he was helping this woman simply to get you alone faster, but the earnestness in his voice told you otherwise. It seemed as though helping complete strangers was something that came naturally to him. It was a kindness you did not find often, yet it was strikingly similar to someone else you were fond of. Someone who would be devastated to know you falling victim to the advances of another man, and one you hardly even knew for that matter. Your eyes grew darker as you felt something heavy settle in your stomach.</p>
<p>“You’ve been very kind. Thank you. Thank you both.” You thanked the kind woman with the best smile you could muster as she practically skipped out the door.</p>
<p>You let out a heavy sigh and quickly placed the leftover bottles of perfume onto a tray. “Now, sir, what can I do for you?” you asked, not bothering to look up at Hajime.</p>
<p>“Let me take you out?” The words fell out of his mouth so quickly he did not fully register what he had said until he noticed that you had abruptly stopped moving for a few moments. That was definitely not how he had rehearsed asking you out in his head on his brisk walk over here. Too late to turn back now. He swallowed hard, awaiting your response.</p>
<p>Your stomach flipped, your guilt desperately trying to squash the excited butterflies that were rapidly multiplying in your stomach. It was less of an assertive command and more of a tender request, something you had not expected from someone like him. You side eyed Hajime, trying to get a read on his expression, which you could not. He had an impressive poker face, though the quick rise and fall of his chest gave away his nervousness. “How do you know I’m not married?” you asked as you gingerly placed the last few bottles on the tray.</p>
<p>“Well, that little finger on your left hand looks pretty naked.”</p>
<p>You looked at him for a moment before taking the tray over to the adjacent counter. “You know, it’s a pity you don’t have as much charm as you have persistence.” What a bold-faced lie. He was extremely charming. Placing the tray on the counter, you pulled out a small stepstool so that you could place each fragrance back on the shelves.</p>
<p>“But I have!” Hajime had trailed behind you and extended his arms so that you could hand him the tray. “Sort of…” Once you reached the top of the stool, he began to pass the bottles to you, one by one. “You’re just seeing the aggressive side of me. I have a lighter side. It just takes people awhile to see it sometimes.”</p>
<p>As hard has you had worked to shoot him down, there was something about this man you could not shake from your consciousness. He was not particularly funny, but he was clever and spoke from his heart, and it was his earnestness that allowed you to pick up on that in the short amount of time you had known him. You bit your lip, thinking of all the ways this could possibly come back to bite you. There were many, but you decided they were all worth the risk. “All right. You win.” You hopped down from the stool and looked <br/>up at him with a soft smile, causing a wide grin to lighten his stern expression. “It’s my lunch hour, you can take me to eat.”</p>
<p>Hajime’s elation deflated, remembering he had a lunch date soon with his overly friendly sponsor. “I can’t I-” He tapped his finger on the counter, racking his brain for a solution. He could not let this chance slip away. “How about dinner?”</p>
<p>Now it was your turn for your smile to dim, remembering the dinner plans you had with the same person almost every night. “Oh no. That’s not possible.”</p>
<p>“You have a date?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“How about after dinner? Say… nine o’clock.”</p>
<p>“Well, I guess it would be alright.” A little outing for coffee and dessert could not hurt.</p>
<p>“Good, I’ll pick you up.”</p>
<p>“No!” you blurted and laughed tensely, trying to cover up the outburst. “I’ll meet you somewhere.”</p>
<p>“Okay…” he trailed, confused by your sudden nervousness but recovered, “you know the Café Belami?”</p>
<p>“By the bridge?”</p>
<p>“Exactly.” He began to slowly walk backwards towards the exit, shoving his hands in his pockets, eyes locked on yours. “I’ll see you there at nine.” You giggled and watched him back right into a column, chuckle at his clumsiness and hastily duck out of the shop.</p>
<p>….. ….. ….. ….. …..</p>
<p>An intense melody filled Hajime’s ears as he climbed up the stairs to his flat, taking two steps at a time. He whistled to the tune and kept a light pace as he traveled down the hall, stopping at Tobio’s room when he noticed the door had been left open. The pianist’s fingers danced across the keys, experimenting with different keys and tempos, stopping every few moments to jot down his findings. Hajime turned to his room, adjacent from his friend’s, and continued whistling to the melody as he unlocked his door.<br/>Tobio’s hands suddenly banged on the keys in frustration and craned his head back to peer at his friend, who was contently removing and hanging up his jacket. His eyes narrowed, trying to pinpoint exactly what had relaxed Hajime’s typical stony demeanor. “What’s with you?”</p>
<p>“Nothing.” Hajime froze before throwing a scowl in Tobio’s direction. “Concentrate on your song.”</p>
<p>The musician snorted in annoyance. “I can’t with your annoying whistling. You sound like a lovesick schoolboy.” Hajime shot the musician a death glare. It was not that Hajime was incapable of giddiness, but it was a rare occurrence. One that Tobio had seen once a few months back when Hajime had met that cute girl at the market. His eyes grew wide at his sudden realization. “Are you seeing someone?” </p>
<p>The fire in Hajime’s eyes suddenly dissipated and the two stared blankly at each other, allowing silence to settle in the hallway before the painter flung his door shut with a hard slam. Good guess. Tobio shrugged and returned to his piece, slowly working the keys for a few more minutes, before remembering an important phone call he had needed to make. He hung his head and reached over to this side table where his phone sat. While the phone rang, he did his best to mentally prepare himself for the high energy he would no doubt be greeted with on the other end.</p>
<p>“Hello? Who is this?” A singsong voice answered.</p>
<p>“Guess.”</p>
<p>A grin spread across Tooru’s face. “Tobio! You always call at the wrong moment.”</p>
<p>“Wrong moment?” he repeated, almost offended by the comment. “I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re doing every second of the day.” He could hear Tohru stifle a laugh but proceeded to the point of his phone call. “Hey, when’s the new number going into the show?”</p>
<p>“The new number goes into the show tonight!”</p>
<p>You nearly choked on your food and turned around in your chair. “What?! Tonight, Tooru?” You had been enjoying dinner with your fiancée before the phone interrupted your pleasant evening.</p>
<p>Tohru placed his hand over the mouthpiece to answer you, “Yes, darling, tonight.”</p>
<p>“You having a party or something?” Tobio asked,</p>
<p>“No, I was talking to [y/n]. She’s my dinner guest.” He shot a playful wink in your direction. You smiled and turned back to your food. The heavy weight in your stomach returned, but this time it was due to the rendezvous you had agreed to. You had been too caught up in all the excitement of today that you had completely forgotten about the new performance your fiancée had been working so hard on.</p>
<p>“What are you having to eat?”</p>
<p>“Magnificent pheasant!”</p>
<p>“Wow.” Tobio placed his free hand over his stomach in an attempt to muffle its growling. “I can be over in ten minutes.”</p>
<p>“Oh no, don’t rush yourself. I’ll see you later at the café.”</p>
<p>“But I’m hungry,” he mumbled to no one but himself as Tooru hung up the phone.</p>
<p>The singer laughed and returned to the dinner table. “That Tobio- he’ll never change.” He noticed you moving food back and forth across your plate and his smile dropped. “What’s the matter, darling? Can’t you come to the show tonight?”</p>
<p>“Well I-“</p>
<p>He took up both of your hands in his. “Because if you can’t, it’s perfectly alright, darling. Don’t worry about it.”</p>
<p>A sigh escaped your lips and you gave him a weak smile. Tooru had always been considerate of your feelings. That was something that had initially drew you to him. He had been there for you during one of the hardest times in your life and was always careful not to push you into anything but would support any decision you made wholeheartedly. The least you could do for him was support him in return with the same amount of effort. “No. Of course I’ll be there.”</p>
<p>His charming grin returned. “You are a doll! You do know how much I love you, don’t you?” he asked between tender kisses he placed all over your hands. Your heart sank. You would feel terrible if you missed his show tonight, but your thoughts kept returning to Hajime and you knew you would feel even worse if you left him waiting for you at the café by the river.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Interactions between Iwaizumi and Kageyama are my favorite.</p>
<p>As always, thank you for taking the time to read this! It truly means a lot to me.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Using everyone's first names was super weird.</p><p>Originally, I had wanted to start posting once I was finished but I'm too excited to wait any longer! I currently have up to chapter 6 completed, so don't worry I won't leave you hanging. </p><p>There may be eventual smut, but I'm having a hard time deciding. So for now, I'll keep the rating at teen.</p><p>Shout out to my friend Emily! Thank you for being my beta and ooc checker!</p><p>Thank you so much for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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